


Somebody falls in love

by muking



Series: All Fun and Games [1]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Almost demon!Luke, Anal Fingering, Blood, M/M, Mashlum?, Multi, OT3, Smut and Fluff, Vomit, cat!Michael, human!calum, vampire!michael, witch!ashton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 03:24:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7874278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muking/pseuds/muking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ashton releases Michael and drops his pants without a second thought. “Get your teeth in me, weirdo,” he commands. </p><p>Michael drops to his knees obediently and curls his fingers in the waistband of Ashton's pale pink boxers. “Where'd you get these, loser? As your boyfriend, these pink boxers have reached an entirely new level of gay that I don't think I can handle. I'll have to sub in Calum.” </p><p>“Shut up,” Ashton smacks the sky blue hair in front of him, hard enough that it turns the same shade of pink as his underwear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somebody falls in love

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is actually an intro to the main fic I'm in the process of writing, and I have no excuse for it other than I just thought it'd be cute. Cute boyfriends being cute. Also, I have Carousel by Melanie Martinez stuck in my head, so that's where the title is from.
> 
> Alternatively titled: Three Boys, One Orgasm

Calum's 16 and there's cold fingers wrapped loosely around his wrist as he wakes up, a head nestled into his shoulder, and warm breath fluttering over his neck. He doesn't have to look down to know who it is, but he does, anyway. Purely to watch the long eyelashes flutter and Michael's green eyes lift to meet his. 

“Stop sleeping,” Michael demands as he jabs the fingers of his free hand into Calum's waist for a second time. Calum belatedly realizes that the stinging there is what had woken him in the first place. “You're not allowed to sleep while I'm wallowing in self pity.” 

“Well, quit wallowing so I can sleep,” Calum counters. 

Michael goes to jab him again, so Calum squirms away and shoves his hand into Michael's chest. The older boy's fingers are still wrapped around his wrist, so his arm twists at an awkward angle and forces a whine of pain from his mouth. “Stop, stop!” He cries while ripping his hand away. 

“Weak,” Calum teases, even as he shifts around and rolls onto his side to properly face Michael. “Are you going to let me go back to sleep or do I have to go find another bed?”

“Neither,” Michael surges forward and presses his face to Calum's chest, cheek squished against him, while wrapping an arm around Calum's waist. His cold hand settles on his spine and pushes him closer, probably so Michael can leech his body heat. 

“Get off me, vampire,” Calum tries to push him off, but Michael only noses closer to his chest and let's out a soft noise of despair. It makes Calum realize why he's been wallowing. “Are you still on about your fangs? They'll pop soon enough.” 

Michael wails quietly again. “Calum, I'm so old.” 

“You're barely 17,” Calum reminds him. 

“That's so old,” Michael squirms up until he can bite weakly at the exposed skin on Calum's collarbones with his dull human teeth. “All the other vampires got their fangs at, like, 14! My mom said she got hers at 15! Where are mine?” 

Calum rolls his eyes fondly, but his arm hooks around Michael's neck, anyway. He hooks his chin over Michael's head and sighs. “You'll get them soon enough.” 

Michael huffs and whines in the way he does when he doesn't get his way, but Calum's not too sure how he's going to try to fight his own body. As a born vampire, his fangs probably should have come in a few years earlier- which would have saved Calum from having this conversation a million times- but, they hadn't. There's no valid explanation for why they haven't come in yet, only theories of his bad diet, his unstable environment, his own minds inability to handle death, ideas that kind of make sense, but have no real evidence to support them. 

Calum thinks his fangs haven't popped yet because he won't stop obsessing over them. 

“What if I never get them?” Michael asks softly, voice muffled by Calum's shirt. “What if- what if they never come in? I'll be doomed to being the weirdo without fangs!” 

“Rude!” Calum smacks Michael in the head with a small movement and then cups the spot he'd hit with his hand so Michael won't complain. “I haven't got fangs, either!”

“You're flat,” Michael reminds him pointedly. “You don't have any magic, you're not special, you're just a boring old human.” Calum goes to protest, but stops when Michael laughs and adds, “It's not a bad thing! You could be a demon that hasn't started the change yet, like Luke.” 

“That's true,” Calum nods and ends up nuzzling into Michael's dark hair on accident. When he realizes, he simply pulls the older boy closer and hooks one foot up over his calves. 

“Quit cuddling me,” Michael demands. “My fang-less mouth isn't worthy of you.” 

“Shut up, Michael, they'll come in soon enough,” Calum smacks him again, harder this time, and then kisses his head for good measure.

Michael groans and squirms like he's trying to get away and possibly escape the bed, but they both know that won't happen. “I'm serious! What if they just don't? I've heard that happens, you know! Maybe I'll just never get my fangs and I'll be doomed to a life of drinking from blood bags like- like a human kid with a juice box!” 

Calum hums fondly. “I'll get you a pocket knife,” he assures him. Michael sits up abruptly and rips away the pillow they'd both been using, lifting it high above his head as Calum grunts in surprise. After holding it up ominously for a few seconds, watching Calum flinch and attempt to scramble out of the way, he slams the pillow down right on Calum's face. 

“That's what you get!” He smacks him with the pillow a second time, leaving Calum breathless and giggling. In retaliation, Calum rips the pillow away and hits Michael back as hard as he can. He let's out a laugh as Michael flies back, apparently not expecting the blow. He lands with a soft whump on his back in the bed, gasping and obviously out of breath. 

Calum's about to laugh at him when he notices Michael has stopped finding this funny and now has tears in his eyes, staring up at Calum in absolute horror with his hand clamped tightly over his mouth. 

He manages to say, “Oh, shit.” and he's got a lisp. Calum's initial reaction is that he'd knocked one of his best friend’s front teeth out (with a pillow of all things). 

“Mike?” He mumbles nervously as he crawls forward, right up until he can plop himself down on Michael's stomach. He hesitantly reaches forward and grabs Michael's hand to pull it off his mouth. “What happened. Open up.” 

“My fangs!” Michael cries, although it sounds like “My fangth” with his new found lisp. Which Calum finds oddly endearing. Michael cracks a big smile and shows off the fangs settled snugly into the rest of his teeth, popped down over his incisors. They're sharp and long enough that they reach nearly to the gums on his bottom teeth. His pearly white teeth are stained pink and red with the blood leaking from the slits in his top gums, but this isn't the first time Calum's seen his teeth look bloody. 

“Your fangs, “ Calum echoes as he stares at them. He doesn't think a whole lot at he sits up straight, still perched on Michael's stomach, and pushes his sleeves up to his elbows, the presses his wrist to Michael's closed mouth. “Come on, bite me!” 

Michael looks like he's going to as his mouth drops open. He just breathes over Calum's wrist for a few seconds, furrowing his eyebrows and scrunching up his nose. Calum watches his tongue press up against his left fang and go ridged, before it falls back down, bleeding and punctured, while Michael whines. 

“I can't,” he groans miserably. He brings his hands up next and presses his thumbs to the tips of the two sharp teeth when Calum moves his wrists away. “I can't bite anything until I can make them go up and down. They won't-” he slips and stabs himself with his fangs, forcing another cry of pain from him. Calum shifts around on his stomach to pull Michael's hands away from his mouth.” 

“Say Ashton,” he demands. 

Michael pauses and glances up at him in confusion. “Athton? Oh, damn it.”

Calum laughs in delight at his lisp, before he's yelling for Ashton and reaching for Michael's wrists. He manages to wrangle Michael enough to wrap his hands around Michael's arms and pin them above his head by the time the bedroom door opens and Ashton hops in, happy as ever. 

“What are you doing?” Ashton asks as he crawls into the bed and settles next to Calum. His skin is warm and soft when their biceps brush together. Calum doesn't get any time to dwell on it, as Ashton gasps and reaches for Michael's hand. “Mikey, you're bleeding! Can I help?” 

“Yes,” Michael replies with his lisp, shooting Calum a glare when he laughs again. Ashton reaches up and grabs hold of Michael's bloody thumb as he whispers a few words. When he let's go, Michael's skin is healed over and only smeared with a little bit of blood. The rest is on Ashton's hand, but he wipes it off across Michael's shirt. 

“Look,” Calum leans forward to shove his forefinger between Michael's closed lips, poking around until he finds the sharp point of a fang. Michael hisses in pain when he touches it and reluctantly bares his teeth to show Ashton. 

The older boy gasps and shift forward to shove his own finger into the fang, right next to Calum's. They both poke at him for a second before Michael flails his arms out and smacks them away wildly, drawing noises of protests from both of them. “Don't touch them, they hurt!” 

“Can you bite me?” Ashton asks hopefully. 

“No!” Michael cries. Calum flinches at his miserable best friend and reaches forward to pet at his hair in what he hopes is a soothing way. “I can't bite anything until they retract because they hurt and I don't know how to make them go back up!” Michael whines.

Ashton looks down at him sympathetically. “Can I help?” 

“Sure,” Michael bares his teeth again, but Ashton takes a second to giggle about his lisp with Calum. When they're finished, Ashton reaches forward and places his fingers on either side of Michael's gums, suddenly serious, eyebrows furrowed and shoulders tense. Calum watches Michael's mouth and Michael watches Ashton's face while the blonde mumbles some words under his breath. 

When he stops speaking, he and Calum stare hopefully at the fangs. They don't move. Calum sits back and sighs when Ashton removes his hands, clearly defeated, and Michael groans miserably. 

“I think you have to do it yourself,” Ashton offers. “No cheating and using a witch.” 

“That's a dumb rule,” Michael scowls. “Who thought that up? There can't be too many vampire and witch friends.” 

“Look at you,” Ashton reaches forward and brushes the dark hair from Michael's forehead softly. “You're the dumb vampire that started dating a witch. And a human. Man, are you stupid.” 

“Shut up!” Michael shows his fangs like he's trying to be intimidating, but Ashton only giggles and pinches his cheek.

“What are you going to do?” He grins. “Gum me to death and complain about the pain? You thut up.” Calum laughs at his pretty accurate mocking of Michael's lisp and leans down to kiss his vampire's nose.

“Call your parents,” he offers, leaning close to brush his nose against Michael's as Ashton's fingers knot in his hair. “They'll know how to help you.” 

“Later,” Michael mumbles. 

“Come on,” Ashton pushes Calum's head down, so he nuzzles into Michael's soft cheek. “Kiss his dumb fanged mouth and get out of the way so I can get my turn.” 

“Come here,” Calum pulls his hand away and sits back up, shifting back so he's more on Michael's hips than his stomach. He tugs Ashton's smaller body up and over, forcing him to straddle Michael as well, then shoves him forward. Ashton giggles and presses a kisses to Michael's mouth gently. Calum leans down on top of both of them and does the same, pressing his chest to Ashton's warm back.

“You're lucky I don't have to breathe much,” Michael shoots out. “And that I'm strong. Otherwise I'd be crushed under your bodies, right now.” 

“Shut up,” Calum rolls his eyes, even more so when he feels a cold hand on his ass. “Get off me, you little shit. Quit touching my butt.” 

“You can touch my butt,” Ashton offers helpfully. 

“I don't think I can get to it,” Michael pouts, gesturing to where the two on top of him are pressed very snugly together. He tries, anyway, only to get smacked away by Calum. 

“It'll be okay, Mikey,” Ashton whispers. He ducks down and noses lightly across Michael's cheek before kissing him again, drawing a genuine smile from him as his eyes shut happily and his tongue runs over his new fangs.

 

☆☆☆☆

 

It's been nearly a week and Michael still has his lisp. His parents claim it's just a waiting game until the fangs are fit snug enough to retract, and Michael says they hurt less. Luke gets his fill of poking and prodding the fangs while in a sound room at the recording studio when he'd first noticed the lisp. He'd shoved Michael against the wall, pried his mouth open, and shoved his fingers in. 

Now, the four of them are in the center of London, wrapped up in jackets and mittens and hats. They're free to roam around the city by themselves, according to their handlers, as long as Ashton keeps his eye on Luke. Or something (Calum wasn't listening and he doubts the other three were, either). Ashton's chose to situate himself on a bench next to a huge fountain and stare at it intently. 

“Stop it,” Calum whispers. He sometimes feels like the voice of reason in his band of supernatural magic wielders. He's human, so he knows what freaks normal people out. Like the water steadily pumping out of the fountain turning a deep red. He smacks Ashton's chest until he returns the water to blue.

“Let him have fun,” Luke argues.

“I will,” Calum shrugs as he lifts himself from the bench and turns to stand in front of the three of them. They look really cute, he'll admit, wrapped in their winter clothes. Luke's pink nose twitches as he tugs on his knit hat and Calum knows he's going to get sick and whiney and Calum will end up taking care of him, but he doesn't mind. Luke likes to cuddle with him, unlike his shitty boyfriends half the time. 

“You will not,” Ashton argues as he crosses his arms and turns his nose up pretentiously. “You never let me have any fun.” 

“I let you enchant Michael's hair yesterday!” Calum argues. They all glance down at his neon green hair at the mere mention of it.

Michael shrugs at them. “I mean, he should have one dramatic display of magic a day,” he says. 

Calum sighs in exasperation and decides it's not worth the fight. Either he let's Ashton change the water in the fountain, or Ashton will find him later and enchant his tongue so he can only speak in bad memes, or something. Calum drops back into his seat between Ashton and Luke and slumps in defeat against Luke's shoulder. The blonde pats at him while Ashton straightens out and flexes his fingers. 

It only takes a few moments for the water in the fountain to start turning blood red again. Michael doesn't look impressed, and neither do the other vampires wandering close enough to see, when they realize it's simply red water.

“Now you've gone and made me hungry,” Michael scowls. 

“Sorry,” Ashton replies genuinely. His fingers twitch and the water is back to blue in a second. “Better?” 

“Not really,” Michael pouts and glances around. “I'm gonna go to the café over there, do you guys want anything?” 

Calum follows his eyes and finds he's looking at a café with a mouth with fangs on the sign, right next to the name. Vampire friendly. “Can you see if they have any cookies?” He asks. Luke nods eagerly. 

“Preferably without, you know, blood,” Luke adds. “For us boring human food eaters.” Michael rolls his eyes, but he's smiling as he stands up and shoves his mitten covered hands into his pockets. His cheeks are already bright red from the cold, so Calum pulls his own hat off and stands to shove it over Michael's green hair. 

“Get something warm,” he orders. “If you freeze to death, I'll be stuck with Ashton and the hetero.” 

Ashton nudges Luke with his elbow. “That'd be a good band name, you can be the hetero and I'll be Ashton.” 

Luke gives him a bored look while Calum rolls his eyes and nudges Michael in the direction of the café. He trips over his own feet, hisses loud enough to draw the attention of several other passing vampires, but eventually manages to stumble off towards the café. Calum wedges himself between Luke and Ashton on the bench again and looks up at the fountain, where a few kids are splashing their hands in the water across from them.

Ashton fumbles around until he finds Calum's mitten with his cold, bare hand and squirms two of his fingers into the tight ring of elastic around Calum's wrist. Calum elbows him and tries to rip away, but Ashton somehow manages to shove his way into the mitten with his entire hand. It's freezing cold and the elastic stretches around the right wrists, but Calum accepts defeat and allows Ashton to lace their fingers together within the warm fabric. 

“You're such a dick,” Calum tells him.

Ashton holds up his other hand and wiggles his fingers at Luke, who immediately shoves both his mittens into his pockets and looks away. Calum glares at him, even as he grabs Ashton's hand and shoves it into his own pocket. 

“You should have listened to me and brought mittens,” Calum says.

Ashton jabs his fingers into Calum's stomach through his jacket pocket, drawing a grunt and a squirm out of him. “I have magic to keep me warm,” Calum gives his pink nose a pointed look, so he hurries to add, “I'm just tired and don't want to use it, right now. But, I was warm.” 

“Shut it,” Calum replies. “When Michael gets back, I want to go to that store over there.” He points across the square, past the fountain, and towards a store he'd spotted before. He was vaguely interested when they'd walked past, but it looks even more enticing now that he's cold and knows there's heat in the store. And now that he knows Ashton is cold. 

Ashton glances at it, uninterested, and then ducks down. He shoves his freezing cold nose right between the collar of Calum's jacket and the bottom of his scarf and nuzzles into the warm spot there. He squishes in, twisting their hands uncomfortably in the mitten, until he situates himself in the warmest position he can manage. 

Luke leans over and snorts at him. “Comfy?” 

Calum kisses the honey colored curls in front of him fondly. He barely hears Ashton's whispers until it's too late and Luke's grunting. A quick glance over confirms that his lips are stuck together and his blue eyes are widening in horror, jaw flexing as he squeaks in terror.

“Ashton,” Calum warns. Ashton doesn't move. “If you don't pull back whatever you just did, I'm going to kick you out of my jacket and mittens.” 

Ashton whines, but mumbles a few words until Luke's mouth pops open and he let's out a tiny pained noise. Calum pats his back soothingly with the hand that's not pressed to Ashton's. 

“Can we just go to the store you want, now?” Ashton complains as he pinches Calum's stomach through the jacket. “I'm cold and bored.” 

“I don't think that's a good idea,” Calum glances around. He doesn't know a whole lot about vampires, but he knows they're extremely protective. Michael would probably not take too kindly to the three of them talking to a stranger. Besides, Michael only went to grab something to eat, that shouldn't take too long. 

“Come on,” Ashton whines as he presses a tiny kiss to the skin his face is pressed against on Calum's neck. “I'll protect you if someone talks to us, and Mikey can't even retract his teeth, he'll get over whatever jealousy he works up.” 

“Fine,” Calum sighs softly. Mainly to appease the blonde and get the cold nose out of his neck. 

Ashton beams against his skin before he's jumping up and ripping Calum forward by their joined hands in the mitten. He grabs Calum's elbow helpfully and yanks him up into a stumbling, standing position eagerly. After steadying himself, Calum grabs Ashton's wrist and drags his hand from the mitten carefully, then glances down at Luke. 

“I'm just going to stay here,” Luke eyes the café Michael had gone into nervously. A quick glance over confirms that he can see the neon green hair through the big windows in front, so Calum isn't on worried about leaving Luke alone in the middle of London. 

“Okay,” Calum reaches forward and shoves the hat further down on Luke's head until it covers his eyes and pushes against his nose. Luke grunts and hunches down, shoulders curling in while his hands curl into fists. It draws a laugh out of Calum.

Ashton, however, frowns and pulls his hand up to hold it right in front of Luke's face. “Let me enchant you.” 

“No, fuck off,” Luke bats him away with one hand and uses the other to tug his hat back up. “I'll be fine, I don't need any enchanting! I can handle myself.” 

Ashton looks like he might argue, so Calum leans down and makes a quick grab for Luke's jacket pocket. He manages to shove his way in, despite Luke's squawk of protest, and comes back out with his phone. He shoves it into Luke's mitten clad hands and gives him a stern look. “Keep it out in case something happens, okay?” 

“Yes, mom,” Luke rolls his eyes, looking peavey by all the nerves involved with leaving him alone for a few minutes. Calum smacks his head for good measure before he let's Ashton tightly him across the square.

The store isn't as interesting as the edgy black and red sign on the outside makes it seem. There's a couple shirts he looks at, but they're all way out of his price range. Ashton takes the opportunity to shove his freezing cold hands into the folds of a fashionable fur coat and shiver against the rack as he warms up. In the end, Calum ends up buying a pair of mittens and forcibly shoving them onto Ashton's hands as they either the store.

They're bickering quietly about said purchase as they cross the square again, so they don't look over at the bench they'd been sitting on until they're a few meters away. Luke still there, eyes wide and a giant smile plastered on his face, while Michael's standing next to him. Unlike the blonde, Michael looks agitated, one and on Luke's shoulder firmly and the other holding a steaming coffee cup. 

Calum is pleased to find a bag for cookies in Luke's hands. 

“Hey, what kind-” he manages to get out before he feels Ashton's hand on his waist, reeling him in as he steps in front of him. 

Michael let's out a low growl from the back of his throat and tightens his grip on Luke's shoulder for a moment before he meets Calum's eyes and realizes who it is. “Call the car,” he demands.

“We've barely looked around,” Calum argues, raising an eyebrow and Michael's grimace.

“Just call the fucking car,” Michael repeats. 

Ashton releases Calum's waist and pulls out his phone obediently, while Luke offers Calum a cookie. “It's chocolate chip,” he explains. “Michael beat the shit out of someone.” 

“I did not!” Michael protests. “Shut up, Luke!” 

Calum grabs hold of the cookie before he realizes Michael had enunciated the s in that sentence. As in, he's lost his lisp. He glances up in surprise, but Michael looks away and continues glaring at anyone who gets within a three meter radius of them. The car must be around the block, because it's there in a second and Michael's gentle herding them into it. He sits in the passenger seat, while the other three squish into the back. 

“What happened?” Calum whispers, eyeing Michael in the front from his position in the middle. Ashton's on his right, nuzzling into his shoulder and shoving a hand into his jacket pocket to press his fingers flat to Calum's stomach through the layers of clothing. 

Luke offers both of them another cookie and leans in like they're sharing a secret. “It was sick. I was sitting on a bench a creepy old werewolf come over to talk to me- like, asking if I was alone and what I was doing in town and stuff. And I was getting freaked out because he was old and nosey and he touched my thigh-” 

“He what?” Michael squirms in his seat until he can get a good look at Luke, who immediately sits up and shuts his mouth. Calum copies him and Ashton reaches for the bag of cookies again.

“Stop eavesdropping,” Luke tells him.

Michael huffs. “I'm sitting three feet from you!” 

“Well, get out of the car or shut up,” Luke counters. Michael scowls at him and looks like he might argue, but Luke leans back into Calum and continues whispering. “Anyway, so this weird guy was talking to me and I was halfway through texting you an SOS message when Michael swooped in out of fucking nowhere.” 

“Luke, I wasn't that far away from you,” Michael points out. “I walked over, I didn't swoop.” 

“He swooped,” Luke nods firmly at the other two. Calum nods eagerly and Ashton shrugs as he peels the cookies away and starts muttering to them. With his hands freed, Luke fidgets and tugs off his mittens, then pulls at the end of his hat. “So Michael swooped in and was, like, growling and hissing and baring his teeth and his eyes were all red and shit- it was so cool! But the guy was growling right back, so Michael bunched him in the face and he ran off!” 

They all pause and glance at Michael, who stays uncharacteristically silent. Calum raises his eyebrows and asks, “What? No arguments about that part?”

Michael shrugs and takes a sip from his coffee cup (which has a phone number and a smiley face scribbled on it, but he doesn't seem interested). “I mean, I was pretty bad ass. Instincts and shit, whatever.” 

Luke rolls his eyes again and holds his hand stretched out of Calum's lap until Ashton hands him another cookie. “Yeah, humble. Anyway, the best part was, his fangs just fucking popped down when he walked up to the guy and his eyes went all red in the white spots. It was so cool!” 

Ashton hums as he reaches forward and threads his fingers into Michael's lime green hair around the head rest. He tugs lightly until Michael's head bounces against the seat and draws a smile to both their faces. “Your teeth retracted because you were protecting Luke. That's cute, no matter how jealous I am.” 

“I'll protect you,” Michael offers.

“Sweetheart,” Ashton giggles at him pointedly. He mumbles something else and the hair clutched in his hand flickers brightly, dulling down to a dark blue- near black color. Michael catches sight of his reflection in the window and laughs lightly at Ashton's gentle reminder of his intense magic. 

Calum eyes his boyfriends for a second (kind of wondering how he's meant to protect himself) before leaning forward. The seat belt catches and pulls tight over his right shoulder, so he uses his left hand to tap on Michael's shoulder. When he gets Michael's eyes on him, he brushes the blue hair from his pale forehead and smiles softly. 

“Wanna bite me when we get back?” He asks. The driver's eyes flick over to him, but the middle aged man doesn't say anything. 

“I've been planning what I'd do with my teeth for a week,” Michael reminds him as he tilts his head and catches Calum's hand between the headrest of his seat and his own temple. “I want Ash’s thigh first. And then you're throat tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow?” Calum tries not to sound disappointed. He wants to give Michael everything he's got, blood included, as soon as possible. 

Michael nods, hair scratching against Calum's fingers, while his mouth twitches in amusement. “Yeah. I'm going to get drunk, finally.” Ashton laughs in absolute delight and Calum frowns at them. They obviously know something he doesn't, as they grin at each other. Michael can't get drunk, either, due to how slow his blood moves through his body. The alcohol only spreads out in gentle waves until he's buzzed, but he can't get drunk. 

Calum's heard him whine about it more than once. 

He glances at Luke, who shrugs, apparently just as lost, before they both turn back to Michael. “Next week I'll take Luke's wrist,” Michael decides. “No homo. I can't remember what demon blood does, and if it has to be a changed demon or not. I hope not, and I hope it makes me high as fuck.” 

“Michael,” Calum warns as he watches the driver's eyes flick over to them, again. His eyes return to the road, but Michael's fangs have dropped when Calum turns back to him. It earns him a chastising glare, but he's too busy rubbing his tongue over the left fang to notice. Luckily, no one says anything obnoxious for a few minutes, just long enough for the car to pull up to their temporary house and for Michael to usher them inside. 

His shoulders don't untense until the four of them are inside with all the doors locked. Luke obviously sees where the situation is going, how Michael's fingers keep grabbing hold of Ashton's wrist to feel his pulse jumping under the skin, as he yawns and nods his head towards the staircase. “I'm just going to go to bed,” he shrugs.

“You sure?” Calum frowns at him. 

Luke's eyes lock onto where Michael's dragging his human teeth across Ashton's neck, the older boy's hand fisted in his hair as it ripples various colors almost frantically. Luke shrugs and smiles weakly at Calum. “You're all disgusting.” 

“Shut it, hetero,” Michael snaps back with a gleam in his eyes and a smile on his face. 

Luke clutches the bag of cookies tighter and scowls at him, before turning back to Calum. “Goodnight. Please be quiet so I'm not scarred.” 

“No promises,” Calum smiles softly at him. It earns him his own glare before Luke's hopping up the staircase and shoving more cookies into his mouth. By the time Calum turns back around, Michael's got Ashton pressed to the closed front door with a hand sneaking into his jacket to rub the front of his shoulder. 

“Come on, take your clothes off,” Michael demands.

Ashton turns his head to allow Michael's mouth to slide over his jaw, even though the action makes him look pretentious. “Not in the hall, I won't.” 

“Then, let's go,” Michael grabs his wrist again and starts tugging, pulling impatiently. He stumbles back, but Ashton's quick to catch him with a hand around his waist, holding tight to his lower back. Calum's hands curl around his shoulders a second later, but he still earns a pleased smile from his best friend. His fangs are still out. 

“Come on,” Calum moves both his hands down to squeeze Michael's biceps tightly before releasing him. Ashton laces his fingers with Michael's and tugs him towards the stairs, apparently just as eager to get teeth in his thigh. It takes longer than expected to get up the flight of stairs, as Michael keeps grabbing Ashton around the neck and pressing his fingers down into his pulse point, hard enough that the skin gets pink, as he tries to kiss the life out of him. The third time he tries for it, Ashton's fingers find both his wrists and hold them tightly in his own hands before jogging the rest of the way to the bedroom Michael and Calum share. 

Ashton releases Michael and drops his pants without a second thought. “Get your teeth in me, weirdo,” he commands. 

Michael drops to his knees obediently and curls his fingers in the waistband of Ashton's pale pink boxers. “Where'd you get these, loser? As your boyfriend, these pink boxers have reached an entirely new level of gay that I don't think I can handle. I'll have to sub in Calum.” 

“Shut up,” Ashton smacks the sky blue hair in front of him, hard enough that it turns the same shade of pink as his underwear. As soon as he realizes what he's done, his cheeks flush the same color. “Fuck off, I threw a red shirt in the white washing on accident.” 

Michael laughs and tugs the offending article of clothing down unceremoniously, leaving Ashton half naked in the open air of their bedroom. It must make him feel a little bit vulnerable, as he holds his hand out and curls his warm fingers around Calum's elbow to tug him closer. Calum stumbles over and wraps his own arm around Ashton's waist before pressing a kiss to the side of his jaw. 

Michael stares at Ashton's thighs, hands cupping the backs of them, and simply looks them over like he's considering them. Considering which one he wants. He decides on the right, the one nearest to Calum, and ducks his head down to pepper it with soft kisses. It only takes a second for him to spread Ashton's legs further to find the throb of his pulse just under the skin. He let's out a soft grunt eagerly as he presses two of his fingers to it and looks up. 

Calum watches as his fangs lower over his smaller incisors. Red, nearly pink, floods through his eyes from the corners and makes them look bloodshot. His pupils blow and Ashton swears under his breath as soon as their eyes lock. “Fuck. Get your teeth in me.” 

Michael's more than happy to oblige. After pulling his fingers off, he presses a soft kiss to the sensitive skin of the inside of Ashton's thigh briefly, then sinks his teeth right in. Ashton steps back in surprise, stumbling, grabbing Calum's arm, until he falls. He hisses a spell under his breath before he lands on his back with his pink boxers around his thigh, knees bent and legs still spread. Michael, to his credit, still has his lips tight around the skin and is sucking eagerly. Ashton throws his head back against the carpeted floor and moans loudly. 

It doesn't take long for the pair to realize what's missing as Michael buries his face further into Ashton's thigh and holds his hand out towards Calum, still standing next to them. Ashton gasps out his name and looks up at him like he's lost, hands gripping Michael's hair desperately. Calum's quick to sit cross legged on the floor and pull Ashton's head into his lap, stroking at his hair and face softly. Michael pulls his head away for a second, long enough to let them see his red lips as he tugs Ashton's underwear all the way off. He shoves Ashton's legs apart and lays down between them comfortably, hands clutching Ashton's hips with his elbows braced on the floor. 

Ashton groans softly and pulls one hand from Michael's hair to fumble around above his own head until Calum laces their fingers together. “Feeling it?” He asks softly, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

“Letting it set in,” Michael explains. “Shit, what percent do you think it is?” 

Ashton shrugs weakly against Calum's legs. “Think it's, like, 80.” 

“80?” Calum echoes weakly. “What are you talking about?”

Ashton tips his head to the side to press a kiss to Calum's thigh, then back to lock their eyes together. “Witch blood is alcoholic. He's getting really drunk.” Michael giggles at the statement and shoves his hand up under Ashton's shirt to hike it up, rubbing slowly across his tummy to calm him down. 

“Taste like fruit,” Michael tells him. “Iron and fruit.” 

“Fruit?” Calum echoes. Michael nods and nuzzles into Ashton's thigh again, giggling and scratching his fingers against Ashton's bare hips. The two puncture wounds from the fangs are still open and trickling blood, so Michael takes it upon himself to lick a flat stripe over the mark, cleaning up his skin and coloring it a light pink. 

“You ready?” Michael glances up. Ashton squeezes Calum's hand tightly and nods, so Michael dives back down and closes his lips around the skin, again, sucking eagerly. Ashton squeezes his legs around him and gasps sharply, pushing his head further back into Calum's lap. Calum's glad to see he's hard, mainly because it means he'll be involved in this situation, somewhere down the line. He doesn't have to just sit here, he'll get to touch a dick eventually. And because he's starting to chub up, as well. 

“Feels so good,” Ashton breathes out. Calum strokes a hand over his cheek, so he glances up with blown eyes and flushed skin. “Cal, you gotta- tomorrow, it feels so good.” 

Michael decides he's had enough for now and seals the wound by licking over it and pressing his thumb to it. Before Ashton has a chance to rest properly, Michael moves his hands to curl around Ashton's thighs, pulling them up slightly. Without any warning, he dives straight for Ashton's ass and starts prodding around with his tongue. 

Ashton cries out and reaches back desperately to grab onto Calum's shirt. His knuckles go white as Michael licks over him slowly, blowing against his opening until Ashton is demanding he do something more productive. 

“You asked for it,” Michael mumbles. Calum watches curiously as his teeth sink into Ashton's other thigh, far enough away from his pulse and any veins so they can rest assured he won't bleed out on the bedroom floor. Michael leaves that wound open and ducks down so his head is between Ashton's legs, again. Calum can't see what he's doing, but it must be great, as Ashton whimpers and clutches tighter to his hand and shirt. Calum strokes his hair through it, watching as Ashton's cheeks flush even more when his eyes screw shut, and watching Michael work his fingers up and into the older boy. 

Calum knows Ashton's close by the way his eyes squeeze shut. His lips drop open just slightly and his nose scrunches up, fingers tightening and twisting in Calum's shirt as he aches for it. A soft whimper passes through his lips and the blush curls across the rest of his face and down his neck. Calum always likes watching Ashton like this, when he's so desperate and close his thighs are shaking and his chest is heaving. 

“You're doing so good,” Calum whispers as he leans down to press a kiss to Ashton's forehead to calm him down a bit. “Good boy, Ash, come on.” 

Ashton breathes out a groan while his toes curl and his back arches. “Michael,” he groans, heaving and panting, trying and failing to catch his breath. “Michael! Michael, I'm gonna-” Ashton cuts off abruptly, pauses, and hisses out a somewhat annoyed, “Michael.” 

Calum tears his eyes away from Ashton's flushed face and looks down to find Michael with his cheek rested against Ashton's thigh, giggling hysterically with his eyes squeezed shut. Soft, happy noises spill from his mouth in between wheezes. Ashton scowls and reaches down to smack the soft pink hair resting on top of him, even as frustrated tears form in his eyes.

“Michael,” Calum prompts. 

“I've never drank anything so-” Michael glances up at him, then sets himself off in more giggles. Calum sighs (although, it's half fond), and Ashton groans miserably. 

“Get off me, you drunken bastard,” Ashton shoves at his head then whacks him again when he doesn't move. “I'll finish myself off, if I have to!” 

Calum watches a tear fall over the curve of his cheek and is quick to wipe it away with the pad of his thumb. “You're okay,” he whispers again as he presses a kiss to Ashton's forehead, then shifts down to his nose, slowly leaning forward to leave a line of sloppy kisses on the exposed skin where Ashton's shirt has been hiked up. “I've got you, Ash, don't worry. I've got you,” He smiles when Ashton sobs and tugs him down forcefully. From where Calum's leaning over him, Ashton's head in his lap, Ashton pulls at his shirt until he can bury his face into Calum's stomach. His nose presses to the bottom curve of his last rib as Calum leans forward even more. 

“Spiderman kiss his cock,” Michael demands with a gleeful grin on his face. His hands still curled around Ashton's right thigh, Michael squirms up and knocks his head against Calum's in some kind of fondly exuberant headbutt. Calum grunts and shoots him an annoyed look, but a smile forces it's way onto his face when he sees Michael's grin. 

“God, you're a happy drunk,” Calum tells him gratefully. 

Michael cheers in delight and headbutts him again. Before he can try to land a sloppy and over excited kiss in the general vicinity of Calum's face, Ashton sobs again and bucks his hips up. Calum's elbow is resting on his hip, so he doesn't get far, but that just makes him cry even harder. 

“You're okay, Ashton,” Calum shushes him gently as he pets at Ashton's left thigh with the hand that isn't braced on the floor, holding him up. He's still bleeding, apparently, but he doesn't want to point it out to Michael. They can clean it up after he comes and stops crying. 

“Please, please,” Ashton whimpers. Calum smiles at him (well, his cock and his hips and the tufts of Michael's cotton candy pink hair, all that he can see at the moment) and shoves two of his fingers into his own mouth. Michael busies himself by placing excited kisses to the same spot on Ashton's leg in front of his face, occasionally stopping to suck a bruise or bite a mark with his fangs. 

Calum shoves him away with a hand against his forehead, forcing him to roll out from between Ashton's legs. He doesn't seem too distraught, only slightly confused until he remembers the glow in the dark stars they have plastered to their ceiling. He grins up at them, so Calum gets started. He braces his forearm on Ashton's right hip and let's his fingers hover around his ass for a second.

“Do you want me to help you, Ash?” He asks softly. 

Ashton sniffles and whimpers, rubbing his nose against Calum's ribs and gripping his waist tightly. “Please? Yes, please.” 

“Good answer,” Calum hums. He's trying to teach his boyfriends about good consent, it's going well. He gently presses two fingers into the boy underneath him and starts working them immediately. Whatever Michael had been doing before must have been vigorous, because Ashton's already pretty spread open for him. He makes a soft noise of approval and pulls his fingers apart, poking around until Ashton cries out and all but smashes Calum's torso down onto his face. 

“Is that Saturn?” Michael asks in wonder. 

Calum ignores him and starts thrusting his fingers into Ashton, jamming the tip of his pointer into his prostate each time. The downsides of this strange position they've found themselves in are that he can't see the pretty flush on Ashton's face and his noise are muffled by Calum's shirt. Either way, he can feel Ashton's fingers dig into his sides as he presses his fingers in relentlessly. 

“No!” Michael cries. Calum glances over to find him on his back next to them, still, hand outstretched so he can point to the cluster of stars on the ceiling, directly over the two beds. “That can't be- that has to be Uranus! Get it? Ash, I love your ass.” 

Ashton sniffles again and reaches one hand out in the general direction of Michael's voice, fingers trembling, much like his thighs. Michael falls for it in his drunken state and clasps their hands together happily. There's a broken mumble against Calum's stomach before Michael's shrinking down and twisting, squirming around and thrashing out his legs wildly. Calum stills his hands as he watches Michael shift into a tiny pink kitten right in front of his eyes. 

“Ashton,” Calum sighs at his witch of a boyfriend. 

Ashton turns his head so his words come out clear. “I'm not turning his annoying ass back until I come.” 

“Alright, fine,” Calum rolls his eyes. Michael takes the sudden change in stride and hops around on his four, fluffy pink paws in delight, prancing towards the closed door. Calum truly doubts he'll be able to escape the room, so he turns back to the task at hand. He twists his fingers directly into Ashton's prostate, pressing near constant stimulation to the open nerve endings with a new vigour (he has a kitten to grab before he does something mischievous). 

Ashton gasps desperately at the new feeling and reaches his hands up to tighten them around Calum's back, digging in to leave bruises. After a minute or two, Calum leans back and licks a stripe up (or, would it be down in this position?) Ashton's cock. He does it a few more times before pressing his tongue to the slit and jabbing his fingers straight into Ashton's prostate. Ashton gasps through his orgasm and Calum pushes himself up abruptly to avoid getting his face striped with come. 

Ashton's thighs are still trembling as he melts against the floor bonelessly, hands falling from Calum's back to starfish out on the floor. It allows Calum to sit up again and press a kiss to his open mouth. “Are you okay?” He asks with a smile. 

“I don't know,” Ashton admits. He twitches, so Calum runs a hand through his hair soothingly. After Ashton's caught his breath and his tears have run dry, Calum helps him up and guides him to the ensuite bathroom. 

“Come on,” Calum gently helps him onto the counter and reaches for a washcloth. He runs it under warm water and rings it out before wiping off Ashton's tummy and thighs. He eyes Ashton for a second with a smile. “Luke would have our heads if he knew your bare ass was on this counter.” 

“He's lucky I graced this counter with my bare ass,” Ashton mutters sleepily. Calum snorts and pulls out the bandaids and neosporin.

“Might sting,” is all the warning he offers before smearing the cream over the bite wound on Ashton's left thigh. He hisses and curses Michael's name under his breath, scowl finding its way to his previously peaceful face. Calum laughs softly and says, “He'd have healed them if you hadn't made him so drunk.” 

“It's not my fault!” Ashton points out. Calum rubs cream over the other three pairs of bleeding fang marks on his right thigh and draws another whine of pain from his throat. 

“Almost done,” Calum assures him. He wipes his fingers on the abandoned washcloth and then swipes bandaids over the four marks swiftly. “Good?” 

Ashton looks over his bare legs warily for a second before glancing at Calum with big eyes. 

Calum presses kisses to all four bandaids without being asked with words. “Better?” 

“Better,” Ashton beams at him. Calum helps him hop off the counter and guides him to sit at the end of his bed. They both glance at Michael's empty bed next to them curiously. “Bring me the furry little bastard and I'll make him a less furry, taller bastard, again,” Ashton pauses and then tacks on, “But, he's not allowed to talk to me.” 

“I'll keep his drunk mouth shut,” Calum assures him. He'd been leaning down and petting at Ashton's hair, but stands up to look around for previously mentioned furry little bastard. He's nowhere to be found and the bedroom door is wide open. Calum swears under his breath, while Ashton meerly giggles and kicks his way up the bed and under the blankets. 

Calum wanders around the house in search of destruction and finds it in Luke's room (obviously), with the door wide open and Luke's loud protests sounding down the hall. Calum finds the soft pink kitten perched on the highest shelf in Luke's room, white phone charger in his mouth as he chews away almost happily. 

“What the hell, give it back!” Luke demands, standing on his toes with his arm held high, barely brushing the bottom of the shelf. He jumps and brushes the fur on Michael's tail, so he swipes at him with fully extended claws, ears flat against his head. Luke stumbles back and stomps his foot. “Ashton!” He calls. “Calum! Michael's a cat again!” 

“We know,” Calum steps further into the room and eyes the kitten perched on the shelf. Luke whips his head around before pointing forcefully at Michael, who turns his head, closes his eyes, and continues chewing his way through the phone charger. “Ashton got pissed at him and turned him into a kitten. He's extremely drunk.” 

“I googled witch blood,” Luke scowls. “Did you know there's vampire porn?” 

Michael meows loudly and drops the phone charger, then makes a noise like he's cackling. He looks absolutely thrilled when they look at him, despite how Luke snatches up the cord and looks anywhere except at the two of them, cheeks flushed an almost violently red. Calum doesn't ask. 

“Come on, Mike, quit bothering Luke,” Calum holds his hand up for the tiny kitten to step into. Which he doesn't. “Michael, come on. Ash said he'd turn you back, don't you want that?” 

Michael's responding meow sounds very petulant and a lot like a no. He turns his head again and closes his eyes, tail swishing behind him. Calum sighs but he's not surprised. Michael's spent his fair share of time as a cat and various other animals, due to his big mouth and Ashton's argumentative nature. The punishments never seem to work, as Michael has found its easier and far more productive to harass the three of them as a small animal. That way, he can't say anything stupid and he still gets to ruin things.

The way he's swaying slightly in time with his tail tells Calum that he's still drunk as a cat. He smiles fondly and wiggles his fingers to catch Michael's attention. “Come on, kitten. Do you want to cuddle with me and Ashton? Promise you can bug Luke in the morning.” 

Luke makes a protesting noise, clutching the ruined charger in his hands, still. Michael seems to accept this offer and steps carefully until Calum's hand with his soft little paws, still swaying to some extent and looking terribly pleased with himself for someone who probably weighs 5 pounds at the most. 

As soon as Calum lifts him down far enough, Michael leaps out of his hand and starts pawing at the air like he can walk and levitate at the same time. Calum and Luke watch him fall flat on his face and thrash around wildly on the floor for a few seconds before he gets his bearing. He stands up shakily and starts strutting from the room, head and tail held high, paws fumbling on the carpet. He's stumbling and walking a weaving path, nearly toppling over at one point, until Calum takes pity on him and snatches him up. 

Michael meows and scratches at his arms like Calum's trying to kill him, but Calum ignores him. “Goodnight, Luke,” he sighs.

“Night,” Luke replies. Calum shuts the door softly behind him and carries a thrashing and yelling Michael back to their room. Unfortunately, Ashton's already asleep, curled up under the blankets with the softest look possible on his face. Michael stills when he sees Ashton, so Calum drops him onto the edge of the bed and lifts the covers to crawl in himself. 

“Come on, then,” Calum pats at the empty space between his chest and Ashton's. It takes him a while, but Michael eventually manages to stumble over and curl up between them, offering Calum a small lick on the nose for his troubles. His tongue is dry but Calum accepts the lick gratefully. “We'll get you back tomorrow, alright?” 

Michael purrs softly and Ashton hooks an arm around Calum's waist in his sleep to tug him closer.

 

Calum wakes up abruptly to the sound of something that sounds a lot like a hacking cough. A tiny hacking cough. He frowns in confusion and peels his eyes back slowly, blinking sleep out of them until his vision focuses enough to see what's happening right in front of his face. There's a small pink kitten heaving an inch from his face, back arched and claws out, hacking and choking.

“Michael!” Calum cries, ripping his head back. Ashton stirs in his sleep on the other side of the bed, but their fucking cat boyfriend pays them no mind. “Michael- Michael, no!” Calum yells frantically. Michael makes a exaggerated choking noise and hacks up what looks to be a bloody, red, dripping furball. Right on the bed spread. It gets all over the sheets and Calum's pillow. The look Michael gives him as he straightens out makes Calum feel like this was a personal attack meant to spite him. Knowing Michael, it was. 

Michael steps away from the spot slowly, although that may be in part due to his shivering body and shaking legs. He hops off the bed and scrambles off to hide somewhere Calum can't find him. 

Calum sighs heavily and sits up in the bed, slumping and staring at the hairball sadly. Ashton's eyelashes flutter open then. He blinks at the mess, then looks up at Calum in confusion. “Are you sick?” He asks. “Did you eat- what is this, hair?” 

Calum groans as he crawls out of bed. “No, I'm not sick, your stupid fucking cat boyfriend is. He's probably hungover, but he's still a fucking cat!” 

Ashton's nose scrunches up in disgust before he's ripping out of the warm sheets and stumbling back onto the carpet. Calum chooses to run a hand over his face, while Ashton goes off in search of said cat with an angry, determined look on his face. He doesn't get very far before there's a loud hiss and a screech from Ashton. 

“Ow, damn it!” Ashton cries. Michael's clinging to his bare foot with just his clothes dug deep into the skin. Ashton kicks his foot violently and send the pink kitten flying across the room, screaming and clawing at the air violently. His side smashes into the wall before he drops, curling into himself and still shaking violently. “Michael, what the fuck?” Ashton limps closer to the tiny curled up body. “You stupid piece of shit cat, my fucking foot-” 

Calum rushes over and snatches Michael off the floor. He makes a soft whimpering noise and buries his pointy nose into Calum's chest. Affection and cries are usually when they know Michael's finished being cursed, so Calum lays him gently on the edge of the remaining clean bed in the room. 

“Come on,” Calum motions Ashton over and rubs a hand over Michael's head as carefully as he can.”I think he's sick and hurt and upset, change him back.” 

Ashton nods seriously, despite his limp and bleeding foot. He places his hand flat on Michael's soft tummy and whispers out a few words Calum can't understand. Michael shifts and grows, cringing into himself this time, until he's completely human again. He's still curled in on himself, so Calum runs a hand through his hair while Ashton hurries to pull back the blankets. 

“Come on, Mikey,” Ashton prompts gently. Michael whines miserably but goes, allowing them to tuck the blankets under his chin while he whispers softly. There's sweat on his forehead and tears on his flushed cheeks, eyes vibrant and shiny as he snuggles into the bed. 

“You're okay,” Calum coaxes as he crawls into bed on Michael's left and wraps an arm around his waist. “We've got you, you're alright.” 

“Everything hurts and I want to die,” Michael announces. Ashton crawls into bed on the other side and nuzzles into his shoulder. “I want to throw up again and my head hurts and now my side hurts because Ashton threw me into a wall and called me a piece of shit, fucking-” 

Ashton whimpers then and Calum knows it's a sure sign he's about to start crying. “I'm sorry!” He pets at Michael's chest and rolls so he's laying halfway on top of Michael, who groans in pain. “I didn't know you'd go flying like that, I hadn't even realized you did until Calum grabbed you! I thought you'd just fallen onto the floor, I'm sorry! I can fix it!” 

Ashton mumbles out a quick spell and then buries his face into Michael's neck and bursts into tears. Calum sighs at the two of them, both crying, now, and clutching to each other tightly. Calum loves his over emotional boys. He cuddles up to Michael's side and pets at his hair soothingly, while Ashton wipes his tears and sits up so he's straddling Michael's waist.

“Hangover?” He asks softly.

Michael whines and runs a hand down his face, the other hooking around Calum's neck to pull him closer. “My head hurts and I'm gonna throw up. Is that a hangover?” 

Ashton nods sadly as he places his thumb flat between Michael's eyebrows, then lays his other hand over his tummy. He mumbles out another spell quickly, causing Michael to slump in a relaxed heap. He hums gratefully and let's his eyes flutter shut, so Calum presses a kiss to his shoulder before nosing into it.

“Do you want to cry some more while I make breakfast?” He asks.

Michael nods and tightens his hands around Ashton's back and Calum's shoulder. “I'm gonna cry some more, but I want you to stay. Not too hungry. Ash?” 

Ashton hisses something under his breath and squirms for a second where he's still laying half on top of Michael. He twists his hand up and out of the blanket to show the two of them the shiny red apple he's managed to produce. He hands it off to Calum, who sighs again and twists to set it on the bedside table. 

“Good boy,” Michael whispers as he presses his mouth to the top of Ashton's head, nuzzling into the curls there while Ashton let's out a delighted giggle. The sound fills the room with warmth, but Calum still hooks his hand around Ashton's back to tangle his fingers with Michael's so he can get closer. 

“Love you,” Calum whispers as gently as he can.

Ashton grunts and mutters, “Michael owes me a thorough fucking.” 

“Alright, you're so fucking pushy,” Michael grunts even as the tears dry on his face and Ashton wipes his own off on Michael's shirt. 

“If you would have finished me off, I wouldn't have had to turn you into a cat,” Ashton reminds him. “It's really your fault I kicked you into a wall. You couldn't have held yourself together for a minute longer to give me a good orgasm.” 

“We all know you don't need a full minute to orgasm, Ash,” Michael retorts. 

Ashton scowls and wrestles his hand free from the blankets to hold it up menacingly over Michael's chest, fingers bent and nose scrunched. “That's not what your mom was-” 

“Wow,” Calum deadpans before pitching his voice a pitch higher to mimic Ashton, “I love you, too, Calum!” then, lower, to mimic Michael, “Love you so much, Cal. Thanks for not letting me die as a cat!” 

Michael grins and turns his head to knock his nose and chin into Calum's forehead. “You know we love you.” Ashton giggles and launches forward to kiss Calum's cheek wetly, pulling off with a loud smack. 

Calum rolls his eyes and bites his teeth down into Michael's shoulder until he yelps.


End file.
